


slipping in the sweet scenes

by marcaskane (noblydonedonnanoble)



Category: Younger (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-05-24 09:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14952254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblydonedonnanoble/pseuds/marcaskane
Summary: After Pauline stepped back into Charles’s life, Liza spent a lot of sleepless nights imagining less complicated worlds with less complicated paths to a happy ending.or;Three ways Liza and Charles's story could have developed and one way it actually did.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In some ways, this is a collection of oneshots, with each chapter as a different version of Charles and Liza's lives together. But I can't stress their cohesion enough--it's important to me that these fantasies are _from_ Liza's perspective, because that dictated what parts of her story I thought she'd be willing to change, what road blocks she sees in her way, where she sees her happily ever after beginning, etc. Just as much as this is an excuse to write about Charles and Liza, I very much see it as a Liza character study.
> 
> So um yeah hope people enjoy

                  Liza got pregnant almost straight out of college. She and David had only ever talked about marriage as some distant possibility—“distant” meaning late 20s, which still seemed like an eternity away—but she told David about the pregnancy test and he began to see the world differently, suddenly all gung-ho about “doing the right thing.”

                  “The right thing?” Liza asked. David was on his knee in her bedroom and holding out his class ring because it was all he had on hand. He probably thought it was spontaneous and romantic. “You do realize that makes it sound like you’re only trying to marry me because of the baby.”

                  “No, Liza, don’t be silly. Maybe I wasn’t… maybe I hadn’t imagined getting married so _young_ , but we’ve always figured that we’d be together. This just means we’ll start a little sooner than we planned.”

                  Liza stared down at David and very nearly said yes. But instead: “I need to think about it.”

                  This was not part of the script, and David was visibly shaken. “What… what is there to think about? You’re pregnant, let’s get married.”

                  “I need to think about it,” Liza repeated.

                  She said no a week later, and David didn’t take it very well. His last words before he walked out her door: “I’ll help you pay for it, but don’t expect me to look after it and change diapers or whatever.”

                  He took that back eventually, his anger dying down over the course of the pregnancy and dissipating entirely when he held Caitlin in his arms for the first time.

                  But he and Liza were done.

 

\--

 

                  The first few years were hard. Liza’s mother was able to take care of Caitlin while Liza and David were both at work, but then Liza’s mother died and David was only willing to pick up so much of the slack because, “Aren’t you just better at this parenting stuff, Liza?”

                  Random House was more accommodating than Liza might have anticipated. A few times a week, they let her split days between the office and home so that she only had to pay a nanny for half a day. They even turned a blind eye on a few days when the nanny cancelled last-minute and she had to bring Caitlin into the office.

                  She knew some of the higher-ups didn’t approve of her choice to keep working with a baby. Not because they said it, but because of the things that they assumed she wouldn’t be able to do. Conferences, evening events, senior positions. She’d been one of the youngest, fastest-rising women in publishing, and then, suddenly, she was totally stagnant.

                  But she had a job, and she wasn’t going to mess that up just because her bosses were assholes. She’d wait until Caitlin got a bit older, and then she’d keep working up the ladder.

 

\--

 

                   Liza was a few days shy of 32 when her boss saw fit to ask if she could make some party on the Upper East Side hosted by some rival publishing giant who was retiring. She said yes immediately so that she could call David and tell him that she’d already committed when she asked him to take Caitlin for the night.

                  The party was…

                  Well, suffice it to say that parenthood had spoiled her. Liza had forgotten how suffocating it felt to be in a room with a ton of work acquaintances whose names she didn’t know. She knew she’d get used to it again in time, but that first night was going to be rough.

                  She snuck away from the crowd at some point around 9, peering down a secluded hallway and wandering into a cozy study where every available surface was covered in books.

                  At some point, when she was younger, Liza had been under the illusion that she could build a life for herself that looked quite like this. Not many people in publishing made enough money for this, but she’d very sincerely believed that she could be one of them.

                  Liza would never have bought such a big house, but damn, did she want a library like this.

                  She’d been peering at the titles for nearly ten minutes—and discovered a _Great Gatsby_ first edition just _sitting on the shelf_ , holy shit—when she heard a light knock on the door behind her, making her jump.

                  “Sorry to interrupt,” a man said as she turned to look at who had surprised her.

                  Not just a man. A cute man. He had dark brown hair and earnest eyes and just a hint of stubble and he was smiling at Liza so gently.

                  “Don’t worry about it,” Liza said, glancing down at the floor for a moment in the hopes that she could suppress her blush. It didn’t work. “I probably deserve it for snooping around someone else’s house. Although I’m assuming you’re not the man of the hour.”

                  The stranger raised his eyebrows and smirked (very sexy) as he took a few steps further into the room. “You’re at the retirement party for the CEO of Empirical and you’ve… never even seen the CEO of Empirical.”

                  God, Liza’s face was feeling hotter by the second. “Um… well, no, not exactly.”

                  He lowered his voice. “Are you a party crasher?”

                  “Oh, no, nothing like that!” Liza exclaimed. “I’m a junior editor at Random House. I’ve just sort of been… out of the publishing scene for a while. I don’t really recognize the big names these days.”

                  “No wonder I don’t recognize you,” he mused. “What’s kept you away?”

                  “Sexist old men who don’t think a woman can be a mother and have a career.” Liza blurted out her response without thinking, and she clamped her mouth shut as soon as she saw the surprise on the stranger’s face.

                  “That would do it, yeah,” he agreed, and Liza softened again. He paused for a moment, considering her, and then said, “So is that why you’re hiding away?”

                  Liza flinched. “Is it that obvious?”

                  “Only to someone else who’s hiding.”

                   “There are just… a lot of people out there,” she stage-whispered.

                  “Well, if you want, I can—” The man gestured vaguely behind him, toward the door.

                  Making a split-second decision, Liza slowly lowered herself into the nearest chair and said, “No, no, that’s fine. If you’re here to hide too, we’re sort of like comrades in arms. We gotta stick together.”

                  “Sounds good to me.” He sat down across from her, and for some moments, they both allowed a comfortable silence to linger over the room.

                  “I can’t believe I’d rather be at home with my 8-year-old right now,” Liza said softly. “I’ve wanted to get back out there for so long.”

                  “Boy or girl?” he asked.

                  “Girl.” Liza could hear the pride in her own voice. “Want to see pictures?”

                  “Absolutely.”

                  Liza dug into her clutch for her wallet and tossed it to him. As he looked the photos over, she said, “Her name’s Caitlin. I’m totally crazy about her.”

                  “She looks lovely.”

                  “Yeah, she’s a sweetheart when she forgets that 8-year-olds are supposed to be brats.”

                  He laughed and tossed her wallet back. “Spoken like a true mom.”

                  They fell silent again, and then, inexplicably, there was another knock on the door. Where Liza had been startled when her solitude had been interrupted, the man turned, totally nonchalant, toward the woman now standing in the doorway.

                  “Charles, dear, your father is ready to give his toast. He wants you there so that he can formally announce you as his replacement.”

                  “Of course, Mother, I’ll be right there.”

                  The woman glanced at Liza for no more than a second before leaving the room to return to the party, but Liza still felt as though she’d been thoroughly appraised. And it was no wonder why.

                  She’d just realized who this man was.

                  “You’re Charles Brooks.”

                  He smiled, and Liza felt a pang in her gut. God, was he handsome. “Guilty as charged. Now,” he said, rising to his feet, “is there any chance you would be willing to come back to the party so that I can have a friendly face looking on as dozens of guests wonder whether nepotism is the only reason I’m getting my father’s job?”

                  “I’d be happy to.”

                  Liza stood up as well, and Charles gestured for her to lead the way, so she smiled courteously as she strode ahead of him.

                  “You do realize we’re on uneven ground now,” he said.

                  “Hmm?”

                  “Now you know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

                  “Oh.” She turned back and gave him a winning smile. “I’m Liza.”

                  Charles hummed thoughtfully. “Liza from Random House.” The noise of the crowd was getting louder, but before they entered the fray, he said, “Well, if you ever want to get away from those sexist old men, just let me know.”

 

\--

 

                  Liza didn’t leave Random House, not for a while, but she did hold onto Charles. He quickly became one of her best friends in publishing—maybe one of her best friends, period. The person she would call when she needed to vent about a problematic client or, even worse, a problematic colleague, because she knew he’d always listen without judgement.

                  He got married not long after they met, and his wife, too, became a great friend to Liza in her own right. In fact, it was Pauline who eventually talked Liza into taking the job offer from Charles which, since very their first encounter, had always implicitly been on the table.

                  Liza watched yet another young, single colleague get a senior editor position over her and Charles was away at a company retreat, but Pauline was free, so Liza turned to her to complain. Pauline let Liza vent for nearly half an hour about wasting her best years with Random House before throwing the suggestion out there.

                  “You would fit in so well at Empirical, Liza.”

                  And Liza hesitated, wanting desperately to be able to say that she trusted Random House to give her more responsibility eventually, but she had begun to doubt that when she hit 35.

                  “I can’t take such a huge step up just because I happen to know somebody,” Liza said, although even as the words came out of her mouth, she knew that Pauline would scoff at them.

                  “That would be very noble of you if it weren’t for the fact that no one else in publishing feels the same way.”

                  Liza wished very much that Pauline weren’t right.

                  “I’ll think about it after I’ve had a few days to clear my head.”

                  Her head cleared, and she was still mad, so she talked to Charles, feeling self-conscious and nervous despite herself.

                  “Of course I want you at Empirical, Liza.” Charles seemed genuinely surprised by her hesitance. “You deserve to be some place where you can actually become editor in chief someday. And if you get along with my other editors anywhere near as well as I think you will… that position would be yours for the taking when George retires.”

                  She gave her two weeks’ notice the next day.

 

\--

 

                  At Random House, Liza had had friends around the office, of course, but it was different to be working side-by-side with one of her closest friends in the world. Both different good—because God, they just _knew_ each other—and different bad—because suddenly her work drama was his work drama and there were things she couldn’t vent to him about anymore. When they disagreed about something, suddenly there were things at stake.

                  When she needed to vent about work, her best friend from college, Maggie, became the one she turned to, at least at least in the heat of the moment. She only talked to Charles once she’d calmed down a bit.

                  In retrospect, she should have anticipated a related side effect from her job at Empirical—she and Pauline were no longer as close, either. If she felt strange complaining to Charles about their coworkers, she felt even more peculiar complaining to Pauline about her husband. Pauline, too, seemed more reluctant to use Liza as a sounding board after an argument with Charles.

                  They didn’t stop talking, not really. They talked a lot. They just didn’t really talk about anything.

                  And that was likely why Liza, like everyone else, didn’t see it coming when Pauline left.

                  Liza found out two days before the rest of the office because Pauline actually texted her: _I’m leaving town for a while. I’m going to miss you. You’re a good friend. x_

                  Charles knew that Liza knew, either because Pauline told him that she was going to tell her or because he could read her expression when he walked into the staff meeting that morning.

                  Either way, he avoided her for most of the day, prompting a number of questions from Diana, who knew enough about Charles and Liza’s friendship to know it was odd not to see them share even passing words all morning.

                  “The two of you aren’t fighting, are you?” she asked, peeking her head into Liza’s office while Charles was out for lunch.

                  “Pardon?”

                  “You and Charles.” Diana crept further into Liza’s office and kept her voice low. “I couldn’t help noticing that he seemed a little… cold toward you this morning, and I know the two of you are great friends, so it was a bit…” She trailed off.

                  “No, no, we’re… we’re fine,” Liza said, doing her best to smile cheerfully. “I think he’s just a bit worried about Nicole, apparently she’s got the flu.”

                  Diana’s eyes widened. “Oh, I see. Well, I’m sure Pauline is taking good care of her.”

                  “I’m sure you’re right,” Liza chirped.

                  Liza texted Charles as soon as Diana left. _Diana thinks you’re acting weird. I told her Nicole has the flu._

                  He texted back almost immediately. _Thank you._

                  While Liza was trying to figure out to ask him if he would feel up to talking any time soon, another text came through. _Sorry for how I’ve been today. Dinner tonight?_

                  _Of course. Why don’t I cook and you bring the girls over? They’d probably love to see Caitlin._

                  Charles was a bit slower to respond this time, but when he did: _I think that’s exactly what all three of us need today._

 

\--

 

                  It had been some time since Liza last hosted Charles at her apartment—his house was just so much better-suited to company—and she couldn’t even remember the last time the girls came with him. But she had a few friends who’d gone through separations in the past few years, and she knew that it was probably best to get them away from their house for a night.

                  The girls were the most reserved she’d ever seen them, but they were happy to see her, and she’d pulled out all the stops to make a meal that would excite them, stopping by the grocery store on the way home to pick up fixings for mini pizzas that filled her apartment with a warmth and comforting smell by the time her guests arrived.

                  Although Liza said nothing to Caitlin about Pauline leaving, her daughter was perceptive enough to realize that something was up, and as dinner was winding down, she turned to the girls and said, “I have a very important question for you two.”

                  “What?” Nicole and Bianca asked in unison.

                  “I got Mario Kart a few weeks ago, but I’ve been so busy with school that my friends and I haven’t had time to try it out. Is there any chance you guys would be willing to help me break it in?”

                  The young girls’ eyes grew wide and they started to nod, but then Nicole frowned and said, “Daddy only lets us play video games once a week, and we already played Minecraft last night.”

                  “I think I can make an exception if Caitlin really needs help testing out her new game,” Charles said gently.

                  “Oh, I do. It’s no fun to play alone.”

                  “Alright then. You girls can go have fun as soon as you’ve cleared your plates.”

                  Nicole and Bianca beamed at their father as Caitlin led them to her room, leaving Charles and Liza to load the dishwasher alone.

                  “Thank you for this, Liza,” Charles said as he rinsed the plates. “I think it’s definitely safe to say that all three of us… really needed this.”

                  “Of course,” Liza said, giving him a soft smile. “The girls seem to be doing… alright, at least.”

                  Charles nodded absentmindedly, his mind on Liza’s words but clearly somewhere else, too. “I… I think they are, yeah. Honestly, I’m not sure they fully grasp what’s happened, not yet. After Pauline told me last night that she—” He faltered and paused for a few seconds before clearing his throat. “We sat them down and told them that she would be going away for a while, and they’re upset but I’m not sure they understand yet exactly…” Again, he stopped, but this time he seemed unable to keep going.

                  “Exactly what it means,” Liza offered, and he nodded. After a moment’s hesitation, Liza asked, “What… what exactly does it mean?”

                  “I’m not really sure.” Charles frowned down at the glass in his hand and scrubbed at it just a bit too hard. “What do you think it means when the woman you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with tells you that she’s felt suffocated in your marriage for years when you thought everything was fine?”

                  Liza’s eyes widened, although she did her best to conceal the true extent of her surprise. “Wow, that is pretty… well, it fucking sucks, doesn’t it?”

                  “That was the crux of my reaction, yes.”

                  “Probably a few more swear words mixed in…” Liza offered.

                  Charles actually chuckled, albeit weakly. “More than a few.” Having handed over the last plate, he turned around and leaned his back against the sink. “I don’t know what makes me angrier, the fact that she didn’t trust me to admit that she was unhappy or the fact that she’s gone off God knows where when she has two beautiful little girls who are going to _miss_ her.”

                  “You’re allowed to be mad about both,” she told him gently.

                  “Oh, I am. I just feel like it’ll be easier if I channel my anger into one at a time.”

                  Liza sighed and said, “Well, you know what’s rumored to help?”

                  “Hmm?”

                  “Drinking wine and venting to a good friend.” She lowered her voice. “I’d say we could break into my whiskey, but with you having to corral the girls home later…”

                  “Wine sounds like just what the doctor ordered,” Charles sighed. “Thank you.”

                  So he followed Liza to her liquor cabinet, and she pulled out a pricier bottle of red that she’d been saving for a special occasion.

                  Of course, she’d been hoping that it’d be a _happy_ sort of special occasion, but Charles needed it more than she did.

                  They lost track of time as Charles talked about his anger with Pauline, his anxieties over taking care of his daughters alone, and his frustration that his separation would soon be the talk of the New York publishing circuit. Their glasses sat long forgotten on the coffee table by the time Caitlin emerged with the girls—at the sound of feet coming down the hall, Liza changed the subject abruptly, so that, when they were interrupted, they were having a spirited discussion about a panel Liza would be chairing at a conference the following month.

                  “Daddy, Daddy, I just finally beat Caitlin and Nicole in a race,” Bianca announced eagerly, jumping up onto the sofa in between Charles and Liza.

                  “You didn’t!” Charles exclaimed, looking between Bianca and Nicole. “Well, that’s the sort of accomplishment that might be deserving of an extra bedtime story when we get home tonight. _Speaking_ of which, you two look pretty worn out. Think you’re ready to head home?”

                  The girls nodded. “Yes please,” Bianca said.

                  “But it was fun to play with Caitlin,” Nicole told Charles. “Maybe she can come play with our games some time?”

                  “I’m sure your dad hasn’t forgotten that I’m always happy to babysit.”

                  “No, I certainly haven’t.” Charles smiled, and it was the most sincerely happy he’d looked all evening. He pulled Bianca into his arms as he stood up, then held his free hand out for Nicole to take. “Now girls, what do we say to Liza for having us over?”

                  “Thank you, Liza!”

                  Both Liza and Caitlin walked them to the door, waving them off as they disappeared down the hall. Nearly as soon as Liza shut the door, Caitlin’s expression grew more somber. “Mom, about Pauline…”

                  “She’s gone,” Liza confirmed, her voice shaking a bit as she thought of Charles taking his little girls home alone. “She left him and he has no idea when he’s going to see her again.”

                  Caitlin grimaced. “Well, shit.”

                  And Liza finally allowed herself to say something that it had felt too selfish to say to Charles. “She used to be one of my closest friends. I can’t believe I had no idea that she was unhappy.”

                  “Mom…” Caitlin breathed, grabbing Liza’s hands and squeezing before pulling her into a hug. “Please don’t beat yourself up over it. I don’t know what things were like between Charles and Pauline, but her not coming to _you_ … that was her choice. Don’t you think you guys knew each other well enough that she knew she could talk to you if she ever needed it?”

                  “I guess,” Liza said, although a part of her still wasn’t so sure. Even so, Caitlin’s words meant a lot, and Liza took in a long, deep breath and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s cheek before pulling away. “Love you, sweetie.”

                  Before Caitlin could reply, Liza’s phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her pocket to discover that she’d received a text from Charles.

                  _Thank you again. I appreciated talking through things before my personal life became the talk of the town._

                  “Did he forget something?” Caitlin asked curiously.

                  Liza began to walk down the hall toward her room, leaving her daughter behind. “No, no, he’s just thanking me again for inviting him and the girls over.”

                  “Gracious guy…” Caitlin mumbled.

                  “Hmm?” Liza asked, already in the process of typing out a response— _No worries. You know I’m here for you whenever you need me._

                  “Nothing, I was just talking to myself. Have a good night, Mom.”

                  “You too, sweetie!”

                  Charles took several minutes to reply; Liza was nearly done removing her make-up when she heard back from him.

                  _Same to you._ quickly followed by a simple _:-)_

 

\--

 

                  The thing is… after that, things between them were more like what they used to be, before Liza started working at Empirical. They both felt a bit more casual and comfortable with each other and they gradually began to complain about coworkers together like they used to.

                  It was kind of nice, although Liza felt guilty about finding any sort of positive in the dissolution of Charles’s marriage.

                  She told this to Maggie, who waved it off. “Your relationship has grown stronger in the wake of a personal crisis. You’re allowed to appreciate that.”

                  “You really think so?”

                  “Sure.”

                  After a moment’s hesitation, Liza gave voice to the thing that she had been vaguely aware of—and had been trying very hard to ignore—for about a month. “Does that mean I’m allowed to have a crush on him too?”

                  It had only been a little one at first, noticing how good he looked when they worked late nights and he shed his tie and jacket, appreciating the way he smelled as she sat beside him at staff meetings. But then she’d begun to think about him more and more when he wasn’t around, and it was all… very confusing. Liza had dated occasionally since David, but none of those guys had made her feel like such a lovestruck teenager.

                  Maggie gasped, and it was dramatic and Liza could tell that Maggie was just teasing, but it still flustered her and made her bury her face in her hands. “You have a crush on your very close, very handsome and now very eligible friend? I don’t know who you are anymore.”

                  “You say that like it was inevitable, Mags.”

                  “I kinda think it was. Not if Pauline were still around, of course,” Maggie rushed to add at the sight of Liza’s raised eyebrows. “I don’t think the thought would have ever occurred to either of you if Pauline were still in the picture. But I mean, c’mon.” Maggie shrugged. “You guys get along so well. He’s hot, you’re hot…”

                  “Because that’s all a relationship needs.”

                  “Just about, yeah,” Maggie replied, laughing. Liza giggled despite herself and swatted at Maggie’s arm. As silly as it was, she felt… reassured. Regardless of Maggie’s jokes, the crux of her opinion had shone through—there was no reason to feel ashamed about developing feelings for a friend.

                  Maggie smirked to herself and mused, “Picture it, you two could be the publishing industry’s power couple.”

                  “Could be,” Liza stressed. “But I’m not even considering it. Who knows if Charles would be interested in me, and Pauline’s only been gone for a few months, so I can’t… I can’t do that to her. Or to him.”

                  “Yeah, yeah, be a good person if you must. I just need to say, though…” Maggie looked Liza directly in the eye and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’d bet you my rent-controlled Brooklyn apartment that Charles would go for it in a second if you put it out there.”

                  Liza shushed her and changed the subject.

 

\--

 

                  Some time passed, and Liza did not take Maggie’s implicit advice to pursue Charles. But she didn’t work very hard to suppress her crush, either, especially as she became increasingly aware that in lighter moments, away from the prying eyes of their coworkers, he flirted with her.

                  He looked at her for a few moments too long on evenings when they shared drinks in his office well after everyone had left. He smiled in a way that hinted at the same sort of questionable thoughts that had also, as of late, been running through Liza’s head.

                  It was nice, because Liza didn’t feel any pressure. She knew Charles, like her, was probably feeling cautious, and he made her feel wanted but didn’t get anything out of it in return in return—except, maybe, that she made him feel wanted too.

                  Things changed the summer after Pauline left, when Liza and Charles were both among those to represent Empirical at a conference in the Hamptons.

                  Much of Liza’s day was spent serving as emotional support for Kelsey Peters, who was part of a panel for the industry’s youngest power players, after which she had to host an after party and announce the first movie deal for any of her imprint’s authors. It was all exciting, and all good, but it was a lot, and it put Liza in major mom/mentor mode.

                  Networking events were due to continue well into the evening (if they could even be called that when the whole point was to have an excuse to drink more in the Hamptons), but Liza left the Empirical party ready to hide away in her room with room service dinner and a nice book.

                  Charles seemed to have a similar idea—he was leaving his room with an empty ice bucket as Liza arrived at her door, and he stopped in his tracks.

                  “Liza, hi,” he said, looking her up and down quickly. “Party finish up alright?”

                  “It went great. I don’t think Kels even noticed you left early, she was too busy owning the room.”

                  He smiled nervously. “Yeah, I wasn’t planning on it, but you, Diana, and Kelsey seemed to have the situation well in hand, so I just thought…”

                  “You’d take the opportunity to hide away,” Liza offered.

                  “No one knows what that’s like like another hider,” he chuckled. “I’m assuming that’s your plan for the rest of the evening.”

                  Liza grinned. “Guilty as charged. I’m halfway through a reread of _Age of Innocence_.”

                  Charles hummed. “Ah yes, escaping the realities of New York high society by reading about New York high society.”

                  “Something like that.”

                  “Well, I won’t keep you, then. Enjoy your Wharton.”

                  She wanted to tell him that she’d rather enjoy his company instead, but she couldn’t bring her mouth to form the words. “Thank you.”

                  Her door was closed for less than a minute, and then he knocked on it.

                  “You know, on second thought, could I propose an… alternative to Wharton?”

                  They walked into town, passing up the main tourist bars where the entire New York publishing scene could be found at that exact moment. Instead, Charles brought her past several of his old haunts on their way to the bar that, according to him, was where the locals went when they got off work every day.

                  “Oh my God,” Liza exclaimed as the bar came into view. “Berlin is playing tonight? Are you serious?”

                  “Well, now I’m pretty sure we’re obligated to go in.”

                  Liza beamed. “Absolutely.”

                  Charles opened the door to the bar to let Liza in, and she felt herself blush as his hand ghosted across the small of her back, but in the dim light of the vestibule, he seemed to miss it.

                  In that bar, with Charles, Liza had more fun than she’d had any time in recent memory. They drank a little bit but for the most part they just swayed and maybe danced a bit next to each other, chatting intermittently during song breaks.

                  And then the band started in on the first notes of “Take My Breath Away.” For a few moments, the change in pace flustered them both, and as Liza gave him a shy smile, she felt her heart pounding in her throat.

                  He took a leap and offered her his hand.

                  Their fingers intertwined and Liza found herself thinking, yet again, that it had been years since she’d felt so much like a lovestruck teenager. Charles looked soft in the light of the bar and he held her waist so gently and God, did she want him to kiss her, but instead she eventually filled the silence between them by saying, “This was actually my prom song.”

                  “Oh yeah?” Charles cringed slightly. “I must admit, I grew to like this song, but it always makes me think of _Top Gun_ at first.”

                  Liza hummed and nodded. “Didn’t like _Top Gun_?”

                  “No, I loved _Top Gun_. My first serious girlfriend broke up with me right outside of the theater after watching it with me, though, which sort of… colored the movie for me, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

                  “And the song,” Liza observed.

                  Charles nodded and echoed, “And the song.”

                  “Well, if it brings back bad memories, we could… we could head back.” She prayed that he would not want to head back—she was feeling too at home swaying slowly in his arms.

                  “I…” He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again before stammering, “No, I’m… exactly where I want to be.”

                  Her breath caught in her throat. “Me too.”

                  She saw his gaze flicker down to her lips and she became abruptly aware of how _different_ this moment felt from all the other flirty moments they’d shared, because for the first time, it felt inevitable that he would kiss her. Her desire filled her chest and lingered in her throat and she couldn’t breathe or think but somehow she managed to exhale, “Charles, just kiss me, please.”

                  Maggie had been right—Charles went for it immediately, unquestioningly. He kissed Liza with a desperation that might have been overwhelming except that she was feeling it too, already mentally navigating the path back to the hotel so they could stumble into one of their rooms.

                  It was only the song winding down that prompted Liza to step back, licking her lips and suddenly feeling just a little anxious despite the fact that, if Charles were going to reject her, he probably wouldn’t have kissed her for what must have been nearly two minutes.

                  “I’ve been thinking about doing that for a long time,” he told her gently.

                  “Me too,” Liza said. The admission made her blush, even innocent as it was.

                  “So you’d agree that we should do it again.”

                  Liza smirked. “Maybe somewhere a bit less crowded. If only one of us had a nice, private room we could go back to…”

                  Again, Charles did not need to be asked twice.

 

\--

 

                  Charles and Liza told HR they were dating, but they didn’t tell anyone else at the office, not at first. It wasn’t so much an intentional omission as it was that Liza knew that everyone who reported to her would see her differently once they learned that she was dating the boss. She wanted a chance to enjoy their relationship without that getting in the way, and Charles understood.

                  Meanwhile, to her friends, to Caitlin, she shouted the news from the rooftops. When they ran into Charles’s friends while out at dinner, he’d introduce her as his girlfriend and he’d grin widely as he said it every time.

                  The evening before their first book release party since the Hamptons, Liza brought Charles to the gallery that was currently displaying some of Maggie’s art; she’d missed the official opening, but she was still eager to see her friend’s work. They went to dinner, then back to Charles’s place.

                  Liza still had not slept over, too self-conscious about what that would communicate to the girls about the extent of their relationship. They knew that Liza was dating their father, and for the time being, that was all they needed to know.

                  She would stay when Charles asked.

                  He didn’t ask that night, but as she was retrieving her clothes from the floor, he looked at her from his place on the bed and said, “Be my date tomorrow.”

                  Liza froze in the middle of pulling her shirt on. “What?”

                  “I want us to be each other’s date to the party,” he said quietly. After a moment’s pause, he said, “I… I know that you’re nervous about people thinking less of you for sleeping with the boss, and I won’t push it if you really don’t want to, but I just… I like the idea of being able to hold your hand through obligatory small talk with people I don’t like. I like the idea of being able to kiss you if I wanted to.”

                  And Liza couldn’t help but smile because, “Yeah, I… I like the idea of that too.”

                  Charles furrowed his brow. “Is that… a yes?”

                  “Yeah, I think so.”

                  He was still beaming when she kissed him goodnight and said a final, “I love you.”

 

\--

 

                  Pauline came back.

                  She called Charles one night while he and the girls were having dinner at Liza’s apartment, saying that she was back in town and wanted to know whether she could come by the house to see him. To see her daughters.

                  Luckily, he’d sent the girls off to wash their hands, so they were not there to learn who was on the phone.

                  Charles told Pauline they were “out for the evening,” glancing at Liza while he said so, and it wasn’t that she didn’t notice his choice to be vague—she could just imagine being in Pauline’s shoes, imagine the devastation of learning over the phone that her ex-husband was in a relationship with a mutual friend, and she knew he was just being kind.

                  “Why don’t you come in to the office tomorrow,” he offered instead. The evenness of his tone surprised Liza a bit. She knew he’d always assumed he would end up yelling when he spoke to Pauline again.

                  The call must have lasted less than two minutes, but it colored the rest of the evening, weighing on both Charles and Liza even as they said goodbye at the door.

                  “About Pauline…” he said, lowering his voice and glancing toward his daughters—but they were pointedly ignoring his and Liza’s farewell, chattering away a few feet from them.

                  “No, Charles, you don’t have to—”

                  “I do, though,” he insisted. “I don’t want to say it doesn’t matter, because it does. But it matters because of them.” He nodded toward Nicole and Bianca. “I don’t want you to ever feel like my history with her is more important to me than what I have now. I am still exactly where I want to be.”

                  Liza swallowed hard, her heart reaching out to him. “Okay.”

                  “You will… tell me if it is weighing on you, though, yeah?”

                  She smiled and nodded. He really was… everything she could ever ask for.

                  He kissed her, soft and fleeting, as the girls groaned beside him. “Daddy, let’s go home, c’mon.”

                  And Liza giggled against Charles’s mouth, said, “Alright, girls, he’s all yours.”

 

\--

 

                  The next day, Pauline was already at the office when Liza arrived. Not that she even saw her—everyone was whispering about it, and just in case she hadn’t heard already, Diana made sure to peek into Liza’s office and quietly inform her, “The ex is back.”

                  But Liza had no interest in engaging. In fact, it was only when Kelsey popped into her office and shut the door that Liza felt like she was in the company of someone she actually wanted to talk to.

                  She didn’t even bother with small talk before asking, “So you must have known about this before coming in today, right?”

                  “Yeah,” Liza sighed. “She called last night and wanted to stop by his house, but Charles and the girls were at my apartment, so he told her they could talk here today instead.”

                  “Oh my God, he was _with you_ when he heard from her? Was that weird?”

                  Liza didn’t even think before answering, “I mean, yes, of course it was.” She frowned. “And he didn’t tell her that they were with me, which was… the right thing to do, but it felt weird to listen to him keeping me a secret.”

                  “God, yeah…” Kelsey glanced back at the door, grimacing. “Do you think he’s told her by now?”

                  “Honestly, I’m not even sure what they’re talking about. Pauline was so vague on the phone, and with Nicole and Bianca right there, Charles and I couldn’t really discuss it at all.”

                  “You don’t seem too worried, though.”

                  No, Liza was worried, a little bit. She couldn’t help it. But she wasn’t worrying anywhere near as much as she might have expected, and this, she did tell Kelsey. “I don’t want to lose my mind over it when I don’t even know what she wants. Besides, I… I trust Charles. I trust him more than anyone.”

                  Their exchange was cut short when there was a knock on Liza’s door and, moments later, Charles opened it and peeked in at them both.

                  “Charles, hi,” Liza said, sitting up straight and trying—and failing—to read his mood from his very neutral expression.

                  “Morning, you two.” He smiled kindly at Liza, and it was sincere, but as soon as he allowed his face to do anything, it was abruptly obvious that he was somewhat shaken. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I was actually looking for Kelsey. Do you… have a few minutes?”

                  “Oh!” Kelsey looked to Liza for a cue; Liza nodded her on, so she rose to her feet. “Yeah, of course.”

                  “Great, thank you. Why don’t you… go on ahead to my office.”

                  This cue, too, Kelsey was eager to take.

                  Charles did not step into Liza’s office, but he cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “I want to talk about this in-depth, but it’ll… have to wait until lunch, if that’s alright.”

                  “Of course.”

                  He nodded. “I can tell you, though, that she… she’s reached out to me because she wrote a book about us. About our marriage. And she wants to try to get it published, so she thought it would only be fair to reach out to Empirical first. I told her we’d consider it, but I want her to do a formal pitch and give some chapters to one of our editors.”

                  “Kelsey,” Liza said, more because she needed to open her mouth and say something than because she thought Charles needed reassurance that they were on the same page.

                  “Right.” He nodded slowly, hesitating for a few moments before turning around to retreat to his office. But he only made it a few steps before he turned back toward Liza. “Oh, and just to give you some peace of mind… I told her about us.”

                  Liza felt herself perk up again as a little smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Oh?”

                  “Yeah, she… well, it was a bit strange, actually, but I think everything is alright.”

                  “Why, what did she say?”

 

\--

 

                  “She _laughed_?” Kelsey exclaimed.

                  Liza shushed her. “My door is only so thick, Kels, c’mon. But yes, she laughed.”

                  It was nearly the end of the day, and Liza’s talk with Charles had left her feeling reassured and safe and relatively unopposed to Empirical publishing Pauline’s book if Kelsey thought it was good enough. Kelsey had put off her other work to race through the chapters Pauline gave to her, eager to relay its contents to Liza.

                  “What did she actually say, though?”

                  “Oh, yeah, that’s the other odd thing. Apparently the first words out of her mouth were, ‘Of course.’”

                  Kelsey raised her eyebrows. “Actually, that’s… not really that odd.”

                  “What are you talking about?”

                  “That’s one of the things I came to tell you about. You’re in her book, Liza.”

                  Liza felt her jaw drop comically. “I’m in there?”

                  “A lot of people are. She’s really lazy with pseudonyms, too—she called you Lena.” Kelsey held out a page for Liza to read, and Liza saw that her friend had bracketed one paragraph.

                  _It only took a few months for me to regret encouraging Lena to go work for Karl. It put a strain on our friendship, and as much as we both tried to ignore it, I found myself abruptly without one of the only true friends I’d had in Karl’s world. Beyond that, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she and Karl were attracted to each other. I never imagined they might have an affair, but she seemed to bring out something in him that I couldn’t, especially after they began to work together. It made me wonder whether he he’d choose her over me, if circumstances presented him with the opportunity._

                  “Oh my God,” Liza breathed.

                  “I know.”

                  “Oh my _God_.”

                  “I know.”

                  “She must… she must _hate_ me. What if she thinks I was just… waiting for something to happen so that I could pounce on him? Maybe she didn’t think anything would actually happen between us but did she think I _wanted_ it to?”

                  Kelsey sighed and shook her head. “I don’t think so. She mentions being suspicious of your relationship with Charles a few times, but she always marked it down to friendly flirting. This bit right here, though…”

                  Liza said nothing for a few moments, evidently speechless. Finally, though: “Am I a bad person, Kels?”

                  “What? Liza, no, you are an incredible person.”

                  “I’m part of the reason she felt like she didn’t belong here. She felt like Charles wanted to replace her with me and he did.”

                  “No. No, Liza, that’s not true.” Kelsey leaned forward and grabbed Liza’s hands, clutching them tightly between her own. “First of all, regardless of what she thought a few times about your friendship with Charles, she made the choice to leave, and that is on her—I’m not even trying to call it good or bad, but it is _on her_. And as far as Charles replacing her…”

                  She smoothed her thumb over the back of Liza’s hand and smiled gently. “Relationships aren’t interchangeable. He loves you for what makes you you, not because you fill some void that Pauline left behind.”

                  Liza swallowed hard and nodded. “You’re right. Yeah. I know you’re right.”

                  “Of course I’m right.” Kelsey perked up in her seat; she squeezed Liza’s hands one last time before pulling away. “Now that we’ve talked about the part of the book that’s relevant to you, can I admit something to you?”

                  “Go ahead.”

                  “I think it’s a great book,” Kelsey sighed. “I know Pauline went to school for creative writing, and it shows—she really knows what she’s doing. I think I need to tell Charles that we should publish it.”

                  Frankly, Liza still had Pauline’s words echoing in her head, already trying to imagine what Charles’s reaction would be when he read them. But she trusted Kelsey’s instinct, and after discussing the matter with Charles… “Okay. Send the chapters on to him.”

                  “You don’t think it’ll be too weird?”

                  “Oh, I absolutely think it’ll be too weird. But if it’s a good book, Charles is going to want to publish it so no one else does.”

                  Kelsey cringed. “Right. Okay. I’ll send him the chapters.”

 

\--

 

                  Charles called Liza at nearly midnight, and on most evenings, she’d already be asleep, but Pauline’s words still had her spinning.

                  “Kelsey said she showed you the passage about you coming to work at Empirical,” he said by way of hello. His tone wasn’t cold, exactly—he just sounded worn out and a little bit lost. Liza wished she were there with him.

                  “Yeah, she did.”

                  He cleared his throat. “I, um, I’ve just read it myself. And it might tire you out if I keep asking you this, Liza, but I’m just… I want to know how you’re doing.”

                  “It doesn’t tire me out at all,” Liza whispered. “I’m… kind of miserable, to be honest. You?”

                  “Kind of miserable, too. It was a long day, what with meeting with Pauline, having to run a staff meeting as though everyone in the company didn’t know my ex-wife had visited me, and then talking with Bob about whether I should humor Pauline’s book in the first place… All I’ve wanted this whole time is for you to be there to hold my hand through it.”

                  “That’s all I want too.” Liza smoothed her hand across her stomach. “If it weren’t for the fact that I’m already in my pajamas, I’d say I could just come right now.”

                  Charles hesitated. “If I called a car for you, would you take it?”

                  She hesitated too. “Are you suggesting a sleepover?”

                  “I might be.”

                  “Well, I’d have to check with my mom, on account of it’s a school night.”

                  Liza was a bit uncertain and stalling and Charles knew it, because he said, “Liza, it’s getting harder and harder to come home or watch you leave when I know it could be anywhere between 8 and 12 hours before I see you again. And now we’re both sad and lonely and I don’t… I don’t want to wait 8 hours.”

                  “Do you…” Liza could barely bring herself to say the words. “Do you want Pauline to be the reason that I first stay over at your house?”

                  He sighed. “Pauline… has made me think about what I want. About what I wanted when she and I were together, and what I want now, and… I want to fall asleep with you and I want to see you still sleeping in my bed when I get out of the shower in the morning and I want you to help me make waffles for my little girls. Reading the things that she wrote about me, about you… it’s made me sad. But you’re the reason I want you to stay over. You’re the only reason.”

                  Liza told him to call her a car.


	2. Chapter 2

                  Liza and Diana met at the very last publishing event that Liza went to before discovering that she was pregnant.

                  Normally, Liza did not like befriending women in publishing who were like Diana—she was pragmatic and career-driven and she thought that disrupting a career to raise children was a waste of time, so she didn’t plan to have any kids at all.

                  Like many of the other women Liza had met who felt that way, Diana revealed this information within the first five minutes of their introduction.

                  And okay, _sure_ , Liza didn’t want to dedicate her life solely to housework any more than any other ambitious twenty-something, but she was fully prepared to make some sacrifices to be a mother, and frankly she didn’t think it was fair of Diana to generalize like that when she could easily just say, “I don’t want children,” thank you very much.

                  Something about this response surprised Diana, because she stared at Liza for nearly 10 seconds before her lips quirked up and she said, “I like you.”

                  Perhaps surprisingly, after that, Liza liked her too. As Liza was leaving for the evening, Diana made a point to find her and say that they should get coffee some time, and Liza agreed and took Diana’s card. It wasn’t until she was in the cab headed home that she realized they’d both been entirely sincere.

                  They got coffee, and it was a good time, which, Liza supposed, shouldn’t have been a surprise. They talked about books they liked and complained about the entitled men in their offices and it was… nice. As they parted ways, they agreed to do it again, soon, and again, it was entirely sincere.

                  And then Liza got pregnant.

                  Diana was one of the first people in the industry to find out, but it still took Liza nearly a month to face her friend and tell her the news.

                  For all of Diana’s railing against motherhood, she was incredibly kind. “Oh, Liza, I know how much you want to be a mother, so I’m happy for you, I really am, but I just… I thought you said that you and David were planning to wait a few years.”

                  “We were.”

                  “Ah. Right.” She paused. “What are you going to do?”

                  Liza sighed and shook her head slowly, saying, “I’m… honestly not sure. I’m excited to be a mother, so if this kid is coming two or three years earlier than I’d have planned it, then so be it. I was just hoping to be in a safer place with my job. David doesn’t expect me to stop working, and my mom will be able to help us out, but… even having to go on maternity leave feels like such a risk this early in my career.”

                  Diana took a few moments to say anything, which had Liza waiting with some trepidation.

                  “I’m not going to tell you it will be easy, Liza, but after the way you told me off for suggesting that motherhood precluded a career, I know you can channel that confidence into advocating for yourself at Random House if you have to.”

                  “You are full of surprises,” Liza murmured, smiling softly at Diana.

                  “As I suspect you are, too.” Diana smiled and reached across the table, patting Liza’s hand gently, and it probably would have felt condescending coming from anyone else. From Diana, whom Liza had still known less than two months, it was reassuring. “Now let’s get you ready to show your boss who’s boss.”

 

\--

 

                  With more than one pep talk from Diana, Liza managed to get the pregnancy/work balance down to a science, and then the motherhood/work balance too.

                  And then Liza’s mother died.

                  The wake was still going when Liza turned Caitlin’s stroller over to David, found Diana and Maggie, and asked them to follow her.

                  “What’s going on, Liza?” Maggie asked, a little breathless as she tried to keep up with Liza’s determined walk toward the parking lot.

                  “I need to drink with some friends, and you two are the only ones I think I could put up with right now.”

                  Diana and Maggie shared a glance and Diana mused, “How flattering.”

                  “I’m Maggie, by the way.”

                  “Oh God, I’m so sorry.” Liza stopped immediately, turning to look at her two friends. “Diana, this is Maggie. Maggie, Diana. I’ve been meaning to introduce you all day but other people kept…” She gestured pathetically toward the church. “Kept getting in the way.”

                  “Don’t even worry about it, sweetie,” Maggie said gently. “You’ve had bigger fish to fry.” Looking up at Diana, she raised an eyebrow. “I’ve heard stories about you. You look just as scary as I’ve imagined.”

                  “As do you.”

                  They smiled to each other and led Liza to her car—Maggie drove.

                  Neither of them asked Liza exactly what was up until they were sitting down in a bar with beers, and they exchanged a look before Maggie said, “So Liza, what… what is this about, exactly? Is it your… mom?”

                  “I mean… kind of, I guess? The things I’m feeling about her sure as hell aren’t helping, but I was standing there just now, talking to one of my friends from Caitlin’s playgroup, and it suddenly hit me.”

                  Silence hung in the air for a few seconds too long as Diana and Maggie waited, and finally Diana asked, “What hit you?”

                  Liza exhaled slowly, staring in the space between her friends, rather than looking either of them in the eye. “I’m going to have to quit my job.”

                  “What?!” Diana exclaimed at the same time that Maggie gasped, “No!”

                  And Liza took a large drink from her glass and shook her head, saying, “I do. I don’t know what we’ll be able to do otherwise. Caitlin’s such a finicky baby, I can’t just turn her over to some sitter. I’m already stressed about how little I’m able to see her during the week with my commute from Jersey, and add to that concern about whether she’s in good hands… I’d be a mess, all the time.”

                  “Maybe,” Maggie said carefully, “But you probably wouldn’t feel that way forever, sweetie. You’d find a good sitter and you’d start to trust her…”

                  “But it still won’t be _me_ with her, Mags.” Liza finished off her drink with another gulp. “Leaving her at home with my mom… that was one thing. But my mom’s gone, even though I still needed her. I wasn’t ready for her to go. And I know that my little girl needs me. She sure as hell needs me more than Random House does.”

                  Neither Liza nor Diana could probably have said for sure whether Diana truly supported this decision. But in that moment, Diana reached for Liza’s hand and said, “Okay, Liza.”

                  And Maggie took Liza’s other free hand and the three of them sat for some moments.

                  “So why are we the only two people you think you could stand right now?” Maggie asked.

                  Liza’s voice was small. “You two are my only friends who aren’t housewives. Who don’t want to be housewives. You’re the only ones who’d get how _awful_ I feel right now, even though I know I’m doing the right thing.”

                  “It doesn’t mean you have to leave publishing forever, Liza,” Diana said gently.

                  That, it was very clear Liza didn’t believe, and she raised her eyebrows at her friend. Instead of replying, though, she said, “My glass is empty and my mom’s dead, one of you should get me another drink.”

                  Even as she said it, she chuckled a bit, and the evening got a bit lighter after that.

                  Liza gave her two weeks’ notice three days later.

 

\--

 

                  About five years later, Diana had deigned to come to Liza’s house in Jersey for dinner one Saturday, and she revealed some news. “I think I’m going to let Empirical poach me.”

                  “What? But you love HarperCollins.”

                  “I’m not sure whether they still love me, though. I’m barely 30, but I can see the cogs turning in those men’s heads, Liza—they’re already wondering when they should phase me out for someone younger. I’m telling you, Liza, these men don’t understand that marketing is a science that _benefits_ from a little more experience.”

                  “But Empirical?”

                  “Empirical.” Diana’s eyes lit up as she repeated the word. “The current CEO is on his way out, his son will probably be taking over some time in the next two years. I don’t remember, did you ever… meet Charles?”

                  Liza shook her head.

                  “Hmm, I think you two would like each other. You’re both… book-ish in the same annoyingly intellectual sort of way. I like working with books, but you two never seem to get tired of reading. And not because it’s good dinner conversation, because you _like it_.”

                  “And…” Liza said slowly.

                  “Right, right, of course. Charles Brooks will be taking over soon. I ran into him last week and he complimented me on the marketing for that biography about the comic book writer that I was scared wasn’t going to sell. So I let slip that I might be open to other offers, and he called me a few days later and gave me one.”

                  “That’s incredible, Diana! I know it’s been a few years, but I always heard good things about Empirical.”

                  Diana sighed happily, a smile spreading across her face. “It doesn’t hurt that a job at Empirical would set me up to be head of marketing before I turn 40.”

                  “No, I imagine it doesn’t,” Liza laughed.

                  And Liza realized what was about to happen a split second before Diana spoke, but she didn’t have time to cut her off. “What about you? Are you… thinking at all about getting back into the game?”

                  “Diana…” Liza sighed. “I’m happy taking care of Caitlin and—”

                  “And the Husband, I know, I know.”

                  He was always “the Husband” with Diana. It had been at least two years since she’d said David’s name, and Liza knew it was an expression of dissatisfaction, but if Diana wouldn’t bring up what her problem was, then Liza wouldn’t ask, either.

                  “Maybe someday.”

 

\--

 

                  There came a point—Liza must have been about 35—when she knew that “someday” would never happen. She’d been out of the publishing scene for far too long, and she had no interest in fighting to get back in when David was making enough money for them both, even for them to send Caitlin to a reasonably-priced college when the time came.

                  But that was before she found out that David’s little gambling _habit_ was actually a large gambling _problem_ , before they went two years without fucking and before she found out that he’d wandered into some younger and slimmer and hotter woman’s bed.

                  And then she found herself, yet again, calling upon her only friends who were not suburban moms. When her house officially went up for sale, she found herself on Maggie’s doorstep with two bags and her dignity at her feet, and Diana graciously ventured into Brooklyn a day later.

                  “He’s a dick,” Maggie told her, not for the first time. They were all on their third glasses of wine.

                  “He’s a dick who lied to you about money, which is the worst thing a husband can lie about.” Diana paused, considering herself. “And this is coming from a woman whose husband was in the closet for our whole marriage.”

                  “This is what I get for marrying my college boyfriend,” Liza told them. “I had a kid with him… I gave up my career because I thought he was a safe choice… He was supposed to be a _safe_ choice. Now I _don’t_ have him… My kid’s in Thailand, which feels _so_ far away… And I’ve interviewed for nearly 10 jobs but no one wants me because I’m a dinosaur.”

                  Diana chided Liza, “You’re not a dinosaur. If you’re a dinosaur, we’re dinosaurs, and I certainly don’t feel like a dinosaur.”

                  “You’ve made it, though,” Liza pointed out. “It’s different to be a dinosaur starting over. No one wants you when you’re starting over.”

                  Maggie patted Liza’s hand sympathetically while Diana sat in silence, but then Diana said, “Empirical wants you.”

                  “What? Diana, that’s sweet, but—”

                  “No, no, I’m serious.” Diana sat up straighter and put down her wine glass. “I have a lot of leverage at Empirical. I can vouch for you. I would _gladly_ vouch for you. I can’t promise that Charles would give you an editing job right away, but he trusts me and I. Trust. You,” she declared, poking Liza affectionately in the shoulder on each of the last three words.

                  Before Liza could answer, Maggie was joining in. “Oh, Liza, that sounds perfect. You get a job back in the field you love… and what would be more of a ‘screw you’ to David than living with one of your friends who’s always hated him and working with the other one?”

                  Liza flinched. “You guys really did hate him.”

                  “Absolutely,” Maggie agreed as Diana said, “Oh, I really did.”

                  She sighed and shook her head. “Okay, Diana, if you still think it’s a good idea when you’re sober, you can talk to Charles about a job.”

 

\--

 

                  The next day, Liza woke up to a phone call from Diana. “You’re in luck, Charles needs to hire a new proofreader. You can come in for an interview.”

                  Liza stammered out a sleepy, “Oh wow, Diana, thank you.”

                  “Don’t thank me yet. I saw what you wore to that interview yesterday. Maggie and I are going to help you get a new business look. We need to find you something that’s still age-appropriate while showing that you have exquisite style.” Diana paused. “Or at least that you have two wonderful friends with exquisite style.”

                  Liza hung up the phone and considered Diana’s words for a second before clamoring out of bed. “Maggie,” she called as she made her way out to the kitchen.

                  “Hi sweetie. Eggs and bacon?”

                  “Yes please. What’s the problem with how I’ve been dressing for interviews?”

                  Maggie stopped in the middle of flipping a slice of bacon, and she looked up at her friend with a gentle smile. “You kinda look like a middle-aged mom.”

                  “I am a middle-aged mom.”

                  “Sure, but that hasn’t knocked the life out of you, has it?”

                  Liza had the distinct impression that this was some sort of trick question, so she answered cautiously, “No…”

                  Flipping the bacon onto its other side, Maggie raised her eyebrows and stage-whispered, “Well I love you, sweetie, but your business clothes make you look like your life’s been knocked out of you.”

                  Liza let them take her out to find new clothes.

 

\--

 

                  Two days later, Diana had Liza waiting outside of Charles Brooks’ office for an interview.

                  Although Diana had been at Empirical for a bit over a decade, Liza had never met Charles. Diana had invited Liza to a few dinner parties and the like that she’d hosted in her apartment which Charles likely would have attended, but for various parenthood reasons, Liza had always had to refuse, until Diana’s invitations became a simple matter of courtesy.

                  Her first impression when he opened the door was that he was… very, very big. Liza knew that she was fairly tall (a fact which had always been something of a sore spot for David), but Charles Brooks made her look average-sized. He was a presence and it was… attractive.

                  Liza had known this. Or at least, she had known that Diana thought he was attractive, as it had come up more than a few times when Diana had gotten drunk and lamented the fact that Charles was happily married because “he seemed like the type of ride that you’d want to get back on over and over.”

                  But that could have meant all sorts of things; Liza was rarely attracted to the men Diana liked.

                  She liked this man, though, so much so that it was a little distracting.

                  “Liza Miller, I presume,” he said.

                  “That’s me.”

                  “Great, why don’t you come in and sit down.” He gestured toward his desk, and Liza claimed a chair while Charles closed the door and returned to sit across from her.

                  “I think it’s been over a decade since I interviewed a proofreader for Empirical,” Charles said first, taking Liza by surprise. Nostalgia was not the usual tone she’d encountered for interviews and she couldn’t tell whether this was good or bad. “It was one of the things my dad wanted me to do for a while before I took over this company. He thought it would help me keep perspective, if I saw how all of these jobs were in my hands.”

                  Liza swallowed nervously. “That’s kind of beautiful,” she told him, and she meant it.

                  “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression, though, about me interviewing you as a favor to Diana. I mean, I am, but mostly because everyone in HR is intimidated by Diana and they’d hire you in a second if they knew you were here because of her. But I didn’t think it was fair to just put you through the interview process without telling them about your friendship with Diana, either, because for an entry-level position like this, I don’t know whether they would bother to look past your age.”

                  “You want to give me a fair chance to prove that I actually deserve the job,” Liza offered.

                  And Charles gave her a small smile, gracious but reserved. “That’s the idea.”

                  Good, that was exactly what she wanted.

                  Liza liked Charles already.

                  “Do your worst,” she told him with a gracious smile.

                  “Well, I’ve looked over your résumé, and I see that you proofread for the newspaper while you were at Dartmouth, and that it was also one of your responsibilities for your first year at Random House, so I have no doubt that you’re qualified. I suppose I’m wondering whether you could tell me a little bit about why you left the industry and why you’re back now.”

                  “Fair questions,” Liza said carefully. Unpleasant questions, frankly, but both things she knew he had every right to ask. “I have a daughter. She’s 18 and she is… the light of my life. When I first had her, I was doing everything I could do stay in publishing and raise her at the same time, and my mom was a big help. But when Caitlin was about a year old—that’s my daughter’s name, Caitlin—my mom passed away—”

                  “Oh, I’m… I’m so sorry,” Charles interjected, his eyes widening.

                  Liza tried to ignore how self-conscious she felt; she had not brought up her mother’s death in any of her other interviews, but here, she had blurted it out like it was nothing. “It’s alright. It just… made me reassess the life I wanted for my daughter, and it made me want to be there for her. Publishing had always been my dream, so I don’t think I realized that I would step away for as long as I did. And then for a while I didn’t know whether I’d want to come back at all.”

                  Charles leaned back in his chair and looked at Liza thoughtfully. “What made you decide that you _did_ want to come back?”

                  “My daughter doesn’t need me at home anymore to pick her up from soccer practice and help her do her homework, but she still needs me to take care of her. And due to some… messy family stuff that I probably shouldn’t spill my guts about in the middle of an interview, I need a job to be able to do that. But I know she would be disappointed in me if I weren’t doing something I loved. Even though I stepped away for a long time, I… I love publishing, I really do. I love books and I love being a part of other people getting to enjoy books that I love. And because I love publishing, because I love my daughter, I am so motivated to work hard, to give Empirical everything I can in any way I can.”

                  “Wow, I think that’s the closest I’ve come to hearing a potential employee admit that they just need the money in an interview,” Charles said, and Liza might have been worried except that he was chuckling as he said it. “Your daughter must be very special to you.”

                  “She really is.”

                  “Diana may have told you, but I actually have two little girls myself. I’ve never had to make hard choices between my career and my girls, but I want to believe that my girls will always come first for me, too.”

                  “I’m sure they will,” Liza said gently.

                  Charles considered her for a few moments. “I’ll email you a chapter that one of my editors needs proofread, and you can work your magic. If she’s happy, you can start on Monday.”

                  “Wh- just like that?”

                  “You don’t have the job quite yet,” Charles pointed out, amused.

                  “No, no, I know, but that’s still… I was expecting the third degree.”

                  He shrugged and rose to his feet, so Liza followed suit. “You knew some employers might not like your reasons for leaving and for coming back to work, but you were honest, which I appreciate. I believe that you’ll work hard, especially if Diana’s willing to advocate for you. So if you can do what my editors want, I see no reason not to hire you.”

                  Liza shook his hand eagerly. Who cared what Diana had to say about Charles being handsome—he spoke and she could feel that his heart was good.

                  She found herself longing for a job at Empirical even more after that.

 

\--

 

                  Liza’s first month at Empirical was a whirlwind. Kelsey Peters, the editor whose chapter Liza had proofread, was so excited by her precise attention to detail that she’d begged that Charles send all her writers’ books through Liza personally, which gave Liza a lot of work right off the bat.

                  It was clear that Kelsey, like many of the other folks at Empirical, didn’t quite understand why Liza had given up on her career, and why she’d come back. But they were kind and welcoming and Liza never felt like she’d made the wrong choice by coming to Empirical.

                  Then, right at the end of that first month, Liza went into the office and found almost all her co-workers talking in hushed tones, although she couldn’t figure out why.

                  Diana texted her and told her to come to her office—something she had only done once in the month that Liza was there, when she was trying to discreetly gossip about the man she’d slept with the night before.

                  “Oh, thank God you’re here, close the door, close the door,” Diana said.

                  Liza followed Diana’s request before sitting down across from her friend. “What’s up?”

                  “Charles didn’t come into work today, and everyone out there—” She gestured vaguely toward the rest of the office. “—is wondering why, but I have the inside scoop.”

                  When she didn’t continue right away, Liza leaned forward and raised her eyebrows, realizing that it must be something truly juicy. “What?”

                  “His wife left him.”

                  “Oh, my God.” Liza’s eyes widened. “How do you know that?”

                  Diana sighed and rolled her eyes. “His doorman is friends with my dog walker, but why does that matter, Liza? My point is, I’ve been wanting to seduce this man for ten years, and we’re finally both single. I need you to help me come up with a game plan.”

                  “I… Diana, I don’t know if I can do that.”

                  “Why on earth not?”

                  Liza frowned. “I’ve been separated from David less than two months, I know how vulnerable Charles is probably feeling right now. I’ll support you trying to date him, but don’t you… think you should give him some space, first?”

                  Diana’s face fell as her jaw dropped just slightly. “You’re absolutely right, Liza, I’m really not thinking, am I? Now’s the time to just let something happen naturally, not manufacture anything.”

                  “Exactly,” Liza agreed.

 

\--

 

                  Diana took that advice for a few weeks, but on the day of the PEN Awards, Liza was out for lunch when she got a text from Diana. _Charles needs a sitter tonight and I volunteered you._

                  So, Liza supposed, Diana had decided that it was time to manufacture things.

                  And because she cared very much about her friend, she texted back, _OK._

                 

\--

 

                  Charles’ girls were reserved, which Liza had expected. But they were also darlings, and in no time, they were able to open up. They played with Liza eagerly and deferred to her with little question, even when it was bedtime.

                  She’d happily settled in with a book by the time Charles came home, and she was already mentally planning her call for a taxi when he offered her a drink and she found herself saying yes.

                  “The girls were angels tonight,” she told him as he poured.

                  “I’m glad to hear that,” Charles said softly, and he meant it but he sounded distracted, too. “My split with Pauline has been… rough on them.”

                  Liza could hear the sympathy in her own voice as she said, “I can imagine. Caitlin’s had some rough days dealing with my break-up with her dad and she’d already moved out of the house.”

                  “Huh,” Charles said, the side of his mouth quirking up just slightly.

                  “What, what is it?”

                  “Based on what you said in your interview, I’d kind of guessed that you and your husband had split up, but I’ve never heard you talk about it, not at work.”

                  “Really?” Liza leaned forward, her brow furrowed. “That’s… really?”

                  Charles nodded slowly.

                  “Huh,” Liza echoed, sitting back in her seat as she echoed Charles’ tone of surprise. “I don’t know why. I don’t feel like I’m avoiding the subject on purpose. I mean, around Diana, I kind of do, because she hated him long before our marriage went bad. Yeah, I’m getting divorced.”

                  “We should start a club,” Charles said to his glass, and Liza laughed.

                  They both drank, then he asked, “So when did it happen?”

                  Liza hummed thoughtfully. “Which date do you want? The date I first thought our marriage might be over? The date I found out about his gambling debts? The date I found out about his mistress? The date I kicked him out of the house? The date we decided to file for divorce? I know ‘em _all_ ,” she told Charles proudly, waving her hand through the air.

                  And Charles actually _giggled_ , which surprised Liza—they’d had approximately ten conversations in her time at Empirical, and never had it occurred to her that he might giggle. “When did you think it was over?” he asked.

                  Liza could feel a pit forming in her stomach as she thought back to the day. “Caitlin’s graduation party. I just suddenly realized how _hard_ we were trying to seem like a family, but we didn’t feel like one anymore. And the thought of Caitlin leaving made it even more obvious.”

                  “How about the date you decided to file?”

                  “Two and a half weeks before I met you.”

                  Charles nodded thoughtfully. “What did it feel like? In between? Did you think about how it wasn’t going to work? Did you try to ignore it? Did you try to fix it?”

                  “I…” Liza hesitated. “Why?”

                  “Well, apparently Pauline had her own list of moments like that, but I… I didn’t. I didn’t know anything was wrong, not in the way she thought it was. I guess I’ve been wondering a lot about what I was missing.” Before Liza could say anything, Charles sighed and continued to speak as he massaged his temples. “I’m sorry, we don’t even know each other that well and I’m laying this on you. I just don’t really have any other friends who have gone through this.”

                  Liza smiled at him over her glass. “I know how you feel. One of the women in my book club back in Jersey got divorced about two years ago, and we’ve had quite a few chats. Even talking with Diana about her divorce has helped, if you can believe it.”

                  “I’m not sure I can,” Charles admitted, laughing. “Y’know, when Diana told me that one of her old friends needed a job, you were really not what I was picturing.”

                  “Yeah, that tracks…” Liza agreed. “I’m envisioning an alternate version of me, Upper East Side chic, maybe a statement necklace…”

                  “ _Definitely_ a statement necklace.”

                  Liza felt her expression soften as she thought about her friend. “She’s the only friend I have left from my first stint in publishing. And we were a bit of an odd match even then, but I think we… ground each other a bit, in the ways we need to be grounded.”

                  Charles nodded slowly. “Like with her hating your husband.”

                  “Exactly,” Liza chuckled.

                  “I like that.” He smiled at Liza softly and she felt her stomach curl, but before she could think about it too hard, his eyes drifted to her empty glass and he said, “I’m sorry, I’ve probably kept you from other plans. Can I call you a car?”

                  Quite inexplicably, she felt a twinge of panic. If he wanted her to leave, then she would, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that _he_ was trying to give _her_ an out, and… Now that she was chatting with him, she didn’t really want to leave. “Oh, um. Are you sure you’re going to be alright? You seemed like you were… kinda itching to talk about your separation for a minute there.”

                  “Oh, you…” Charles hesitated. “You don’t want to hear about that, Liza.”

                  Liza assessed his expression, saw a hint of vulnerability lurking there. So she rose to her feet and plucked his empty glass from his hand. “Why don’t you start talking while I pour.”

                  She didn’t get back to Maggie’s apartment until nearly 3AM.

 

\--

 

                  When Liza woke up the next morning, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d done something traitorous, even though all she’d done was talk with Charles (for a very… very long time). Diana had been hoping that Charles’ presence at the awards would further her own relationship with him, but by volunteering Liza to babysit, it was Liza’s relationship with Charles that she had nurtured.

                  Not even necessarily in a romantic way. They had just _talked_ and it was _good_ , it was something that Liza suspected Charles was rarely open enough to do.

                  And _God_ , was Liza scared that she was going to develop a crush on him. She was scared that at some point since starting at Empirical, she sort of already had.

                  The moment Diana got into the office, she found Liza and said, “Can we talk in my office?”

                  As soon as the door was shut behind them, Diana turned to Liza with her eyes lit up, asked, “ _So_ , did he talk about me at all when he got home last night?”

                  “I… a little bit,” Liza conceded.

                  “Oh, I knew we’d shared a moment over the entrées… Thank you for taking the girls off his hands, it made for a wonderful evening.”

                  Liza swallowed. “I’d look after them any time.”

 

\--

 

                  She spent the next month trying to avoid interaction with Charles that extended beyond casual small talk over the coffee maker, and it was hard to imagine that he didn’t notice, but he didn’t say anything.

                  Until the night of the launch of Kelsey’s new imprint. Kelsey spent the first half of the event floundering, and Liza found herself going into Mom Mode and Kelsey was panicked enough that she embraced it, to the point that Liza found herself talking Kelsey through the entire speech to officially announce the launch.

                  Charles found her alone only a few minutes later; he was wielding two glasses of champagne, and he offered one to Liza, which she took.

                  “That was an impressive speech.”

                  Liza smiled. “Yeah, she did a great job.”

                  “I think you both did a great job tonight,” he pressed, and Liza felt flustered at the realization that he’d seen her giving Kelsey cues, but a larger part of her was flattered.

                  “Thank you,” she said softly.

                  “I’ve been… meaning to ask you something,” Charles told her, “But it’s never really seemed like the right time.”

                  She felt her pulse pick up speed but tried to remain casual. “Hmm?”

                  “Well, I could be reading too much into it, but I get the sense that since you watched my girls during the PEN Awards, you’ve been… trying to avoid me. And I just want to say that if you felt afterwards that I had overstepped some boundary by talking so frankly—”

                  “Oh, oh my God, no, not at all,” Liza exclaimed. “I was happy to be there for you, honestly. You were careful to make sure that I was fine with you venting, and I appreciated that.”

                  “Right…” Charles trailed off, a frown spreading across his face. “Well that’s… good to know, because I was worried. But you… have been avoiding me.”

                  Liza looked up at Charles, at a total loss. “Charles…” she said carefully. She had no idea what was going to come next. What could she say? That her friend of 15 years had a crush on him and that she felt so scared about possibly further _developing_ a crush on him and hurting said friend that she thought it was better to avoid any contact that might exacerbate said developing crush?

                  It was all so convoluted and so _middle school_ and she was supposed to be better than that.

                  “Ah, hello you two!”

                  Diana saved her. Of course it was Diana who saved her.

                  “Hi, Diana,” Liza said. “Great party, isn’t it?”

                  “It absolutely is. I’m so happy for Kelsey, although I must say I still can’t decide how I feel about this whole trash-to-table thing.”

                  Charles chuckled. “As surprising as it is, I’ve kind of warmed up to it.”

                  Liza cleared her throat and turned to Diana. “Could you hold my drink for a few minutes? I need to go find the little girls’ room.”

                  “Of course.” Diana claimed Liza’s glass, and Liza smiled at them both graciously before strolling in the direction of the restrooms.

                  She pointedly stuck by Kelsey’s side for the rest of the night.

                  But at work in the following weeks… she didn’t run from conversations with Charles when there weren’t other people around. Once or twice, she stayed late and they chatted over the printer when they were the last two in the office, and their conversation remained light. Charles did not ask her whether she’d been avoiding him.

                  Liza liked him and she tried not to think about it.

                  She didn’t allow herself to wonder whether he liked her because either possibility scared her.

 

\--

 

                  “Do you think it would be a conflict of interests if I tried to get Hugh Shirley to sleep with me?” Diana asked one day over lunch.

                  Liza froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. “What?”

                  “Hugh Shirley, the author of _The Male Feminist_. My subtle hints to Charles just haven’t been working and I think Hugh’s attracted to me, so why not, right?”

                  “Oh, I…” Liza hesitated. “I get the impression that you’re going to go after him regardless of what I say next.”

                  “You’re not wrong,” Diana said, smiling to herself.

                  “Then I say go for it,” Liza told her.

                  And maybe it was foolish of Liza, maybe she was just looking too hard for an excuse, but when she learned, the next day, that Charles was going to be interviewed by “By the Book,” she took it as a sign. For the first time since she babysat, she allowed herself to open herself up to the possibility of _talking_ to him.

                  “Feel free to call or text me if you abruptly find yourself panicking about any of the questions over the weekend,” she told him.

                  Liza meant it, too. She hoped she would hear from him. And when she did, while she was in the middle of a movie with Maggie, she eagerly excused herself and told Maggie not to bother to pause it was she retreated to her room.

                  His simple question about what to select as his favorite book from childhood turned into a two-hour conversation.

                  Their dialogue was interrupted when Bianca came to her father’s room to announce that she’d woken up from a bad dream, but before he hung up, Charles said, “Hey, it was good to talk to you, Liza.”

                  “Yeah, it was… it was good to talk to you, too.”

                  Liza was surprised to find that Maggie was up and waiting for her in the kitchen when she emerged from her room. Her friend was eating ice cream straight from the carton, and upon Liza’s arrival, she pointed the spoon at her accusingly. “Do you have a boy toy I don’t know about? Because I have a hard time imagining why else you’d hole up in your room to talk on the phone for two hours.”

                  “It was not a boy toy,” Liza retorted, rolling her eyes. “It was Charles. He’s doing an interview for ‘By the Book’ on Monday and he’s nervous.”

                  “Two hours of nervous,” Maggie offered.

                  “Mhm.” Liza tried to grab Maggie’s spoon to get a bite of ice cream for herself, but Maggie pulled out of Liza’s reach.

                  “This would be the same Charles who Diana’s been wanting to bone for years.”

                  Liza sniffed and nodded. “That’s the one.”

                  “The same Charles who is totally, 100% your type and who is also a divorcé with kids who loves books and publishing.”

                  “Yep.”

                  Maggie let this hang in the air, eating some ice cream while Liza silently dared her to push it further.

                  “Well,” Maggie said at last, “when you’re tired of being self-sacrificing, just let me know.”

                  The next afternoon, Liza received a text from Diana: _Hugh Shirley: BIG MISTAKE!!!_

                  It appeared that Liza had not tired of being self-sacrificing yet.

 

\--

 

                  The moment Charles pulled Liza away from L.L. Moore, he was chastising himself. “I can’t believe I let that go so far,” he muttered.

                  “Charles, no, it was… it was for Empirical…”

                  “We need to keep him happy for Empirical. We didn’t need to put you on stage in a fur bikini for Empirical. I should have refused.”

                  “You tried to refuse.”

                  “I should have tried harder.”

                  He looked at Liza and his eyes were wide and his face was so vulnerable and for the first time, she saw what she’d been trying to ignore: he had feelings for her.

                  Liza felt her heart in her throat as she murmured, “Hey, I forgive you, okay?”

                  Charles put his mask of indifference back on and led her into a nearby restaurant to get warm.

 

\--

 

                  Even with that realization, it took nearly another month for Liza to return home to her apartment one day and announce, “I like Charles.”

                  Maggie was in the middle of painting an old bike tire and didn’t even bother to look up at Liza’s announcement—she took on a monotone and said, “Color me shocked.”

                  “I think Charles likes me,” she added.

                  “Oh, that makes things a little more interesting.” Maggie’s brush stilled, and she watched Liza cross the room to sit on the floor near her. “How are you gonna break the bad news to Diana?”

                  “Any chance you’d do it?”

                  “Funny.” Maggie turned back to her tire. “Sweetie, Diana loves you, in that weird way of hers. She’ll probably be a little bummed that she never actually got to find out how good he is in bed, but she wants you to be happy.”

 

\--

 

                  Liza knew this was true, she really did, though it took even longer to believe it fervently enough that she felt like she could talk to Diana.

                  She knocked on the door of Diana’s office toward the end of the day, when she knew her friend had just had a very successful meeting with an author.

                  “Oh, hello, Liza, is everything alright?”

                  “I, um…. I hope so,” Liza said carefully, taking a few tentative steps into the office. “Can we chat for a minute?”

                  “Yes, yes, of course, go ahead and shut the door and sit down.” Diana considered Liza as she took a seat. “Dear Lord, you don’t have to look at me as though you’re a child who’s been sent to the principal. What’s going on?”

                  Liza twisted her hands in her lap. “You’re one of my closest friends, which has made this hard to say, even though it should also have made it easier to say…”

                  Diana looked understandably bewildered. “To say what?”

                  “I have feelings for Charles,” Liza blurted. Before Diana could say anything, Liza rushed to continue, “I’ve done my best to ignore it, because Kels told me about this thing called ‘girl code’ and apparently part of it is respecting your friends’ dibs when they decide that they want to date a guy, but I—”

                  “Oh my God,” Diana said softly. “I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed.”

                  This gave Liza pause. “What?”

                  “I can’t believe I’d never realized. He really is your type, isn’t he? I mean, he kind of looks like the Ex with better… everything,” she said, after a moment’s pause, “and you two have so much in common. Exactly the sort of stuff that I know you’d love to have in common with a partner.”

                  Diana was looking at Liza as though seeing her for the first time, but Liza was speechless. “Do you think he likes you?” Diana asked.

                  “I… I think so,” Liza told her.

                  “Good, he’d better.”

                  Liza still found herself at a loss for words, but finally she was able to say, “I didn’t know you were going to react this way.”

                  “Well, how should I have reacted? God knows I’m a catch—I’ll find someone eventually.”

                  “You’ll find someone soon,” Liza corrected her, feeling such warmth in her heart for her friend.

                  Diana sighed fondly and rolled her eyes. “You already have my blessing, Liza, you don’t have to charm me now.” Standing up, she turned around to face out the window. “Now, I love you, Liza, but I have a request.”

                  “Anything.”

                  “Give me… 12 hours where I don’t have to look at you so that I can briefly hate you and mourn the loss of a perfect fantasy.”

                  “Done,” Liza agreed, scrambling out of the chair and retreating.

                  Before she closed the door to Diana’s office, though, she poked her head back in to say, “Love you, Diana.”

                  Diana’s eyes were still on the window. “You too, Liza.”

 

\--

 

                  The following week, Liza watched as her beloved hometown bookstore was nearly saved, and then discarded, by the little brat who was trying to put his own spin on Empirical. And in the aftershock, as Liza sat alone at her desk and processed the fact that this treasured place would soon be gone, Charles appeared. “This bookstore was pretty important to you, wasn’t it?”

                  Liza smiled sadly and nodded. “It was.”

                  “Do you think I could… see it, before it goes away? I’d like to get a glimpse at another part of Liza Miller.”

                  “Yeah… I’d… I’d really like that,” she told him.

                  Which was how they found themselves in a car driving to Jersey together that weekend.

                  “So I’m going to be meeting your book club,” Charles said as they pulled off of the highway and began to wend their way through Liza’s old stomping grounds.

                  “Mhm. Apologies in advance: every single one of them is going to hit on you. Depending on how tipsy they get, they might forget that they hit on you and then they’ll try to do it again.”

                  “Yeah, that sounds… about right,” Charles said, and he was smirking when Liza looked away from the road so that she could glance at him.

                  “And if that doesn’t make you uncomfortable enough, we can stop by my ex-husband’s apartment and pay him a visit.”

                  Charles hummed thoughtfully. “I think I’ll pass on that today, but I appreciate the offer.”

                  Liza grinned at the road. “I’m excited that you wanted to do this. It means… it means a lot that you wanted to share it with me.”

                  “Well, sure. It’s important to you. And that’s… that’s important to me.”

                  Those words hit Liza in the gut, and she could feel her face heating up.

                  Before she could think better of it—of the fact that they were in a car and she could go nowhere if things felt uncomfortable—she blurted, “I was avoiding you.”

                  “What?”

                  “At the Millennial launch, you asked me whether I was avoiding you after we talked about your break-up. And I tried to pretend that I wasn’t and you let me pretend because you’re a good person, but I… I _was_ avoiding you.”

                  “Oh. Right.” Charles hesitated. “Why were you avoiding me?”

                  “Because I was afraid that I might like you too much if I let myself talk to you.”

                  Charles thought about this for a few moments, and then said, slowly, “Because liking me would be… bad.”

                  “Liking you would be complicated,” Liza corrected.

                  “You stopped avoiding me, though.”

                  “Because I realized that I liked you too much anyway, so there wasn’t really… a point.”

                  He looked between Liza and the road a few times. “Wh- why do I feel like I’m back in tenth grade, dancing around asking Tori Stevens to go steady?”

                  “Probably because we’re both nervous and out of practice,” Liza offered. They both laughed and it relieved some of the palpable tension.

                  “So how do we… fix that?” Charles asked. He was so preoccupied with Liza, his eyes now fixed on her, that he didn’t notice she’d pulled into the parking lot to the bookstore until she removed her seatbelt.

                  Liza looked at Charles, her eyes shining and her heart reaching out to him. He looked so open and she felt like she could burst. “I have an idea of where to start,” she told him.

                  She kissed him and her heart shone.

                  It took them a few tries to pull out of the kiss, because each time one of them tried to pull back, the other couldn’t resist the urge to give a few lingering pecks.

                  But finally, Liza leaned her forehead against his and kept her eyes closed as she told him, “Well, there is a 95% chance that the girls all saw that happen, so the good news is, they _probably_ won’t come onto you now. They might ask you very, _very_ invasive questions, though.”

                  “Suddenly I find that I don’t mind.”

                  He kissed her once more.

 

\--

 

                  Perhaps an hour after they arrived, it occurred to Liza that she had a very important text to send.

                  _He likes me_.

                  Diana didn’t get back to her right away, and Liza didn’t know whether her friend was busy, or remaining just a hint aloof, but frankly, she didn’t mind either way because she knew Diana meant nothing bad by it.

                  Finally, though, she did hear back.

                  _Good. UNLIKE the Ex, this one’s a keeper._

                  Liza looked at Charles, watched him eagerly talking shop with June as they pored over the nonfiction section in search of Empirical titles that he could give her a bit of dirt on.

                  As though he could feel her eyes on him, he glanced up and smiled.

                  Yes, Liza had to agree: he was a keeper.


End file.
